


Fireball in the Glass House

by Chiwibel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders has a blog, Attempt at Humor, M/M, pre-fenders - Freeform, shitposting, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:30:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8822530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiwibel/pseuds/Chiwibel
Summary: "You can pester my blog later; it is impolite to leave someone waiting no matter the type of conversation popped out on the corner of his screen"."How did you know and fyi not everyone can keep up with this kind of thing you Breaking the Habit In the End When September Numbs edgelord", Anders wrote thankful that no one could hear him laugh at his trash talking and oh so clever references.OR: The one where Anders gets a blog and makes a new friend, by sheer force of being a little shit: a trashfiction.





	

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my tumblr: serah-pounce-a-bell.tumblr.com
> 
> This is trash.
> 
> Quality-less trash.
> 
> Oh yes, more modern Fenders from me. I've been kidnapped by the Overwatch fandom (reaper76 is good shit (tm)) but I came back here just fro this and Mirror Maze (I'm currently working on the 8th chapter).
> 
> Forgive me.

Anders was used to his words falling on deaf ears, as even his closest friends tended to ignore his “ramblings” on mage rights, the Chantry and cats. So he did the next best thing: getting a blog.

 

Justice thought it was a good idea, mostly because he already had one and was a pretty popular social critic. And also a well-known _LPer_ , for some reason. His completionist tendencies had gathered a closely knitted circle but that was a tale for some other time.

 

Thinking of a penname had been quite difficult, crossing out ideas like Fur Freedom, Lit Lantern and Are you kitten me? (he wasn’t) for the lack of originality and relation to what he wanted to represent. In the end, his sitcom archnemesis Fenris provided him with an answer to his prayers.

 

 _Fireball in the Glass House_.

 

A little too long, a little too elaborate. A little too perfect.

 

Anders clicked _CREATE_ and there it was, an entire platform for his _ramblings_ and cat pictures. Ser Pounce-A-Lot deserved a following of his own.

 

He wrote and wrote about his opinions, linked and commented about facts, discussed with some people and collaborated with Justice from time to time. Sometimes he even made fun of Varric’s books as revenge for writing him in them like anything but the charming mage with a roguish smile he totally was. How dare he.

 

It was nice, finding a community so welcoming and opinionated, so active and so understanding. Why hadn’t he done this before? Anders would never admit it out loud but he cried (only once!) in Justice’s arms because of the relief that was talking and being finally heard. Or read.

 

(okay maybe twice)

 

Surprisingly, his friends worried. They knew nothing of his blog (thankfully because Varric would destroy him and he couldn’t live without his daily dose of glorious chest hair) and appeared concerned about his sudden lack of complains. Hawke, Maker bless her well-meaning heart, even tried to take them all to a symposium about mage rights.

 

It was the first time Anders heard Fenris crying from laughter.

 

Nonetheless, she still dragged Merrill and Sebastian along, sitting between Justice and Anders, and them. The discussion at the end was quieter than everyone expected, Anders saving his strength for that long-ass post he had been formulating in his mind since the start. Said post was shared across his followers and detractors quickly, giving him more of those in just a couple of days. When he realized, five hundred people were following his blog, sans those tit bots sharing virulent links.

 

He had survived Isabela’s magnificent boobs years ago; no pair of breasts could take him out of the game.

 

Neither could hate mail, especially when it mostly was anonymous spam like “kys”. It took Justice two shameful hours to explain what it meant. In Anders’ opinion, it had more sense as a badly written request for a kiss than one for killing himself.

 

What actually could was… Well.

 

After another 24 hour shift at the hospital, Anders was tired. Which was usual but posts in that stated tended to be trash or genuine crap so he just took a couple of photos of Pounce and uploaded them before trying to get a night of short, restless sleep. Trying being the important part of that phrase, because a message notification brought him back to reality.

 

He had wanted to ignore it but the preview on his notification bar showed him was tempting.

 

A nicely crafted but antagonistic wall of text written by a possibly big fan of Pat Benatar ( _Heartcrusher_ , really?) waited for his answer. To be honest, he supposed there were a thousand and one better and more accurate things that penname could be referencing but the bus driver had Heartbreaker on loop and Anders couldn’t take it off his head better than he could take Minogue’s biggest hit.

 

This _Heartcrusher_ addressed him as just _Fireball_ and while cute, Anders had had better aliases in his years working for a brothel. He was not offended in the slightest, they were probably listening to Linkin Park’s first songs and rocking to them unironically. As long as it wasn’t Nickelback, it’d be fine.

 

Anders replied to the message with all the animosity his tired minds could muster, which was still more than the average person would demonstrate to a stranger over the internet just to prove a point. So yes, too much animosity some would say. And by some, Anders meant almost everyone he knew. He needed new friends.

 

Or maybe more cats, Pounce was getting lonely.

 

 _You seem very passionate about this issue_ , Heartcrusher wrote after the two paragraphs that could have been better written but it’s too late for regrets Anders sent to them.

 

 _‘This issue’ being the freedom of my people_ , he typed. While he waited for a response, Anders clicked his new detractor’s name and opened their blog on another tab. Whatever Anders could have been expecting, it certainly wasn’t what his eyes saw. Book reviews, wine giftsets and reblogged poetry. Reblogged philosophical poetry of the 17th century. And a Linkin Park masterpost. How in the world had this person find him?

 

Ah, of course. There it was, the viral post that everyone shared with their favorite quote from Varric’s cringeworthy writing. Heartcrusher repeated in the tags the quote Anders had added and seemed to lament he had gotten to it first.

 

 _You can pester my blog later; it is impolite to leave someone waiting no matter the type of conversation_ popped out on the corner of his screen.

 

 _How did you know and fyi not everyone can keep up with this kind of thing you Breaking the Habit In the End When September Numbs edgelord_ , Anders wrote thankful that no one could hear him laugh at his trash talking and _oh so_ clever references.

 

_Leave my music taste out of this._

 

 _Leave your music taste out of this world, it does more damage than your horrible opinions_.

 

 _Leave_ your _opinions out of this galaxy, they do more damage than your horrible face_.

 

_Leave your face out of this dimension, it does more damage than Varric’s books._

 

_Leave Varric’s books out of this reality, they do… allegedly less damage to humanity than you._

_no u_

 

_gdi_

 

 _Leave you gdi out of this-,_ Anders started and hit send before finishing the sentence. He was having way too much fun with this.

 

_Don’t. You ruined it._

 

_Well, you ruin everything._

 

_… no u_

 

* * *

 

 

Heartcrusher’s messages after that were… singular. Sure, they went against almost anything Anders stood for but in a surprisingly respectful way. They were well spoken and, Maker have mercy, even threw a couple of jokes here and there. A conversation unlike any other.

 

They texted until sunrise that day and when Anders started counting the minutes to follow their blog without coming out as needy, the notification for a new follower popped on his screen.

 

_Heartcrusher is now following you._

 

He smiled and, against his better judgement too tired to act, wrote to him.

 

_Am I that irresistible?_

 

 _You give yourself too much credit_ , was the answer he got while clicking the plus icon besides the name on the top of the screen. Justice’s alarm clock, loud as hell through the thin wall that separated their rooms, stopped him from enlightening his friend with his witty comebacks.

 

_Gotta work, ttyl._

 

He pretty much forgot about his phone when attending patients, which used to annoy Marian to no end because she needed and instant response to all the pictures she took of her dog. In the end she had desisted because there was no dog that could get under Anders’ skin like cats could, unless it was Cousland’s Barkspawn but did Hawke need to know that? No, ser.

 

At six o’clock his ringtone, cats meowing to some Led Zeppelin song, filled the room.

 

“Hey, sparkle fingers”, greeted Isabela’s voice, “why don’t you bring that sweet ass of yours to cards tonight?”

 

Even if he wanted (he didn’t, not with the numbers in his bank account nearing the single digits), he couldn’t, Anders said. Isabela whined and whimpered but he stood his ground, false promises of sex could only go so far and aside from living with Justice, he became a hopeless romantic in need of morning cuddles. And unless Varric was the one offering, he would not let himself be fooled by the opportunity to lose himself in some glorious chest hair.

 

“Sorry Bela, it’s going to be another long and boring night at the Clinic for good old me”, Anders lied. Anything to keep his money out of his friends’ hands.

 

After and hanging up, numerous notifications had found a temporary home on his screen, most of them from texts and pictures. Hawke’s mabari, Justice nagging him to buy some milk because Anders had given most of it to Pounce, Sebastian’s daily Chantry chain mail (deleted, erased, _obliterated_ ) and around 300 notifications from his blog.

 

They would be a pain in the ass to load but he did it anyways.

 

 **2 new messages from** **_HEARTCRUSHER_ ** :

 

_Ok_

 

_Good luck at whatever you may do for a living besides ruining my life_

 

Anders smiled as he reached for his coat and his scooter’s keys, readying himself to leave the Clinic. He typed a fast comment before putting his phone back into his pocket.

 

_Miss me much?_

 

He drove to the nearest mini-mart, remembering to pick up some milk or Justice would hide Pounce toys for a week. Again. They still had scratches from that time, Anders refusing to heal them with magic out of mere pride because _how dare he_. And he also deserved some ice-cream to eat as he cried while watching some mediocre movies on Netflix (Maker, bless Aedan Cousland and his guest account), or maybe he’d finally catch up with The Knick.

 

And if he chose to annoy his new friend in the meantime, well, no one could complain. Besides the friend in question, that is.

 

A _you wish_ welcomed Anders into the conversation but he ignored it, taking a picture of the freezer in front of him.

 

_Chocolate or cookies n’ cream_

 

_Do you even have to ask?_

 

_Well yeah :( sorry i guess you’re not a sweets kinda person_

 

_As a matter of fact, I am. Cookies and Cream. Always._

 

_Ty gotta pay_

 

Back at his apartment, already huddled up under a blanket with Pounce on the couch, Anders failed to regret at all not going out. He had peace, a cat purring at his side and Justice serving ice cream to them both. Evenings like that, silent companionship, were rare and something Anders treasured. Without much thought, he selected Monty Python and the Holy Grail and sat back.

 

Justice always tried to hide his worry when Anders rejected his friend’s invitations, no matter how much he insisted doing “the good work” was a better way to spend his days, but never questioned him. Just offered Anders a good shoulder to support himself every time someone mentioned swallows, coconuts, and swallows carrying coconuts.

 

 _I picture you looking like the rabbit of Caerbannog_ , he texted when the movie and his ice cream were almost over.

 

_The what._

 

_Monty Python???_

 

_Excuse me?_

 

_OMG ARE YOU KIDDING ME_

 

He had never closed a conversation so fast before. Never in his life.

 

 _IF THIS POST GETS 700 LIKES TONIGHT I’LL MAKE OUR EDGELORD_ _@HEARTCRUSHER_ _RECEIVE THE BLESSING OF THE KNIGHTS WHO SAY NI_

 

Anders left the post untagged, it would have to reach its mark on its own. And in less than twenty minutes, it did and it kept going and going.

 

 _What have you done_ , Heartcrusher asked.

 

_I’m about to bring real magic into your sad sad sad humourless sad sad life_

 

_I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime_

 

_Well then you haven’t had enough of ME_

 

* * *

 

 

One movie. Anders told himself one movie.

 

One MORE movie, that was.

 

After the big success with Monty Python, big success meaning that his post still got notes to that day and that his recommendation was more than loved by his annoyed but glad internet buddy, Anders just had to keep showering his new friend with quality entertainment. Which was why he was on his way to the last Blockbuster in the city, nearing its imminent closure and selling most of the DVD’s they had.

 

He was a renting type of guy but he also was a plan type of guy.

 

A plan that consisted on sending Heartcrusher all the cat emojis he could because _please please please I’m gonna get those movies for you, I’ll even pay for the shipment, but you have to watch them because my friends are sick of me and my ramblings, they even asked me to talk about mage rights again._

 

_Your friends are crap, Fireball._

 

_Yeah but so am I so match made in heaven, like us :3_

 

Anders was also a too fast, too hard kind of guy.

 

 _I’ll get them on my own_ , Heartcrusher answered ignoring the last text out of shame or pity. Anyone’s guess would be better than Anders’.

 

_Not if I get them first!!_

 

The Maker knew he meant well, he really did, but that wasn’t enough to get on His Good Side and when Anders asked for the movies he got a “that weird tattoo guy just bought the last combo” from the soulless guy behind the counter. “Weird tattoo guy” seemed to overhear the conversation and looked back before getting out of the store.

 

 _Of course_ it would be Fenris of all people the one that ruined his perfect plans.

 

Archnemesis indeed.

 

“Hey there, _buddy_ ”, Anders greeted, frowning. The elf’s frown was far more intimidating but the oversized sweater and flip flops made him look like the kind of teddy bear that is too old to keep but too significant to throw away, so you keep it in the attic and cry every time you see it judging you with its button eyes in a lifeless stare, which ruined his personal _feng shui_ or whatever, Anders noted. Merrill was the one into that kind of thing anyways.

 

“What do _you_ want”, Fenris growled at him. Anders pointed at the bag the elf was carrying with me movies inside and he _spat_ at his feet, attracting alarming looks from both Anders and the store assistant. “Tough luck”, Fenris added, closing the door behind him as he got out.

 

 _Of course_ Anders followed him, headstrong as he was.

 

Fenris was more agile and had an easier time avoiding the people on the street but Anders had longer legs and an annoying voice that made Fenris stop just to make the mage shut the hell up.

 

“Listen, I’ll pay you for them”, Anders insisted “with interests”.

 

Fenris hated him, that was a fact. And Anders disliked him a lot because how could someone so pretty outside be so ugly inside? He thought not long after meeting him but not much later he learnt that the elf was well spoken and funny with everyone but him, even exchanging a couple of jokes with Merrill. And Hawke favored Fenris over Anders, but that had nothing to do with anything, he swore.

 

Still, the elf regarded him doubtfully before speaking. “I can’t”, he finally said as if he _would_ have done it if… If… _If what?_

 

“Why not?”

 

“That is certainly not _your_ problem”.

 

“C’mon, for the good times”.

 

“There have been no good times between us, mage”.

 

That. Hurt.

 

Sure, the only time Anders had received a smirk, not even a smile, from Fenris had been two years ago when the mage had slipped over some spilled kitchen oil and Hawke’s place and that had been because he was being laughed at and not with. The elf had offered him a hand to stand up and Anders had almost taken it but his pride got in the way and he stood up alone and like that, he was gone.

 

And then there was last year’s Halloween but no one was allowed to talk about that. It involved lap dances and bitten ears and too much alcohol, enough to be considered as a good time, a really good time, if Isabela knew how to keep her mouth shut and _why oh why is she carrying a whip?_

 

Nonetheless, Anders wasn’t above begging.

 

“Pretty please”.

 

And Fenris wasn’t above ignoring him and keep going his way. Anders chastised himself for not thinking, puppy eyes would be useless against the elf. Fenris possessed the entire monopoly of cute and convincing looks of his group of friends.

 

Anders got back home as empty handed as he had left, dreading the moment he had to check his phone.

 

_Got them._

 

_What?_

 

_The movies, just bought them. I hope I was fast enough._

 

_Let me tell you that you almost weren’t, if the antagonist of my future autobiography hadn’t intervened._

 

_Almost. I’d read your autobiography, for what’s worth._

 

_You would? Aww, now you’re lying to make me feel better. How considerate of you, you prick._

 

_I would. But only if you let me pick the title._

 

_Sir, you’ve got yourself the deal of your life._

 

Anders’ world seemed a bit brighter, because for every grumpy white haired elf that tortured him there was a kind soul one screen away. His laugher filled the entire apartment when he realized his entire dashboard was filled to the brim with Monty Python giftsets and jokes, even some out-of-context jokes, all shared by his dearest victim.

 

“I’ve created a monster”, he told Pounce as he scratched behind the cat’s ears, unable to take the smile off his face.

 

Days passed.

 

Weeks went by.

 

Three months of simultaneously played movies while typing on their phones, because privacy and anonymity was something Heartcrusher was simply not giving up ( _yet_ ), later… Anders knew he was fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. He tried to convince himself that he was positively not in love with just a couple of (extremely funny and endearing) internet messages, but the problem was that they weren’t just two or three daily messages.

 

No.

 

(maker, no)

 

Every free moment of his life found him typing, laughing, hypnotized by the words of whoever was at the other side of the conversation (maybe even at the _other side of the world_ ). The smart discussions, the witty commentary, and the supporting words they ended giving each other around 3AM because sometimes you just needed that and they had found it, that, whatever that was. And then there were the poems.

 

Anders had noticed that his friend shared poetry but a worrying lot but all of it tended to be properly credited, except for some almost daily pieces that did not even have an “anonymous” for a reference. When questioned about it, his friend confessed to have written those uncredited pieces. From that day on, Anders always received the poems a day before posting. It made him feel more important that it should have, even if they weren’t what he would look for. Dark, gritty, mostly depressing, Heartcrusher demonstrated how appropriate the name was, as the words crushed Anders chest most days.

 

 _I will admit this only once_ , Heartcrusher texted him one day. _There have been only two people that have inspired me to write about the… Lighter side of life_.

 

 _They must be more than remarkable then_ , Anders answered feeling (just a little bit, he swore) jealous.

 

_You are one of them._

 

Anders screamed. In the middle of his kitchen. Pounce jumped and Justice threw him all the pillows that had been on the couch while he recorded a stream of some weird game about the sea. Anders knew enough about general anatomy to recognize those weren’t any kind of animals in existence and could never be, but the big ones were cute enough to let it pass.

 

“What game is that?”, Anders asked feigning nonchalance and waved to the camera, eyeing the chat bar he managed to catch some users sending him energetic greetings. Justice’s audience seemed to enjoy whenever he made an appearance on his streams, so he waved and flew an exaggerated kiss at the camera.

 

“Subnautica”.

 

“Oooh, the deep sea one. Still in early access, no?”

 

“Yes, but it is coming along rather nicely. I sure giving it a try is not what you’re here for, though”.

 

_fireball we love you!!_

 

_Hiiii!!!_

 

_click this link to get FREE followers and subs_

 

_you suck kys_

 

_I want to se the reaper leviathan_

 

_Where’s Pounceee???_

 

_oooooh storytime_

 

Anders got his phone out and showed it to Justice, “this one is private, sorry guys”, he said winking at the camera. A wave of complaints went by the chat but his friend was busy enough reading from his phone’s screen to realize. Justice gruntled. “Oh”, Anders said as his smile fell from his face, “that’s not a happy face”.

 

“This unknown person that we know has questionable opinions messages you for months, surely collecting private information from you and making you feel emotionally attached to them”.

 

_oh no maybe its a catfish_

 

_Stay safe <3 _

 

_but it was me DIO_

 

_get FREE followers for your blog click HERE_

 

_Lets doxx them give me their links_

 

“Oh, sush you guys”, Anders said frowning. Their intentions were sweet, most of them anyways, and Justice did have a point being suspicious. But Anders wasn’t a kid that lied whenever he accepted _Terms and Conditions_ anymore (he almost doubled the legal age, for crying out loud) and he knew better. “You’re such a party pooper, J”.

 

“Someone has to stop you from jumping out of windows”.

 

“Aww, c’mon! That was one time!”

 

_I remember that!_

_so cool!!!_

 

_I have the video on my phone_

 

_that was so lame fireball_

 

_You gave me the scare of my life :(_

 

“I was young and stupid guys!”

 

_you ARE still young_

 

_FREE subs and followers CLICK HERE NOW_

 

_And stupid._

 

“Aaanyways, it’s not like I’ll ever met them, right?”

 

“Is this the part where you say something is, and I quote, totes not happening and then happens?”, asked Justice as he ran away from a creature that looked too much like a fluorescent kraken. Anders was impressed to see him get away from the thing with no suitable equipment whatsoever.

 

“Of course not! And are you using cheats?”

 

“Of course not”.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> LAMPSHADING THE TROPE WON'T MAKE THINGS BETTER BUT DO I CARE NO I DON'T
> 
> The second part will probs be about those two meeting in the worst ways possible or not meeting at all. STAY TUNED.
> 
> (this is marked as complete because I plan to make it a series but i haven't written more of it yet sorry haha kill me)


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